


gone, but never forgotten

by driftingskies237



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Crying, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, soft TJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-29 22:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19840222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driftingskies237/pseuds/driftingskies237
Summary: Cyrus struggles dealing with his Bubbe Rose's death.





	gone, but never forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for any inaccuracies!

_8 years ago_

It’s nightfall when the steady patters of rain turn into a downpour. Wind whips through the trees, scattering leaves and broken branches across the ground. Although Cyrus was put to bed hours ago, the change in weather immediately wakes him. When he first wakes up, he isn’t sure what causes it. Groggy and disoriented from sleeping, he rubs his eyes and turns on his side to fall back asleep. Eyes closing, he starts to drift back to sleep.

Just then, a flash of white bursts out of nowhere, lighting up Cyrus’s room. He opens his eyes again in confusion. Seconds later, a booming noise erupts from outside. It’s so powerful that it shakes the whole house.

Cyrus shrieks, ducking completely under the covers as if they could shield him. He shivers, covering his ears. Just as he thinks there’s nothing more to come, another flash followed almost immediately by an eruption of sound. Cyrus whimpers. A few tears slip down his cheeks. He reaches for his stuffed dinosaur, arms curling around it. It’s soft and warm, but isn’t enough to ease his discomfort.

Deciding he can take this any longer, he rushes out of bed in an instant, sprinting across the hall as fast as possible. Once he finds the door he’s searching for, he reaches up and yanks at the handle, pushing his way inside.

“Cyrus? What are you doing out of bed?” A gritty voice asks.

He wastes no time in rushing over to the woman sitting in her bed reading a book. Just as he leaps beside her, thunder quakes again. He gasps, scratching at his ears. Tears continue to spill out of his eyes, and a sob forces its way through his mouth.

“Bubbe!” He cries, grasping onto her and burying his face in her shoulder. “It’s too loud! I don’t like it!”

His Bubbe pulls him in closer, wrapping an arm around his small, shaking frame. He curls his legs up as tight as they’ll go, effectively making himself as little as possible. She whispers sweet nothings into his ear, rocking them slightly and stroking the top of his head.

“It’s alright, you’re safe, Aynikl,” She promises, holding him tighter as the storm progresses.

She wipes his tears away with her fingers, then continues to stroke his head as a distraction to the noise. His eyelids feel heavy once more, but he worries the storm will scare him awake. Noticing his continued distress, his Bubbe kisses his forehead.

“I’ll watch over you, just go to sleep. Be brave. You’ll be alright when morning comes.”

With that, Cyrus fully gives in to the rush of sleep. The thunderstorm continues, but the hand combing through his hair grounds him, allowing him to tune out the noise. As he falls asleep, his head falls to rest on his Bubbe’s shoulder. He stays there the rest of the night.

…

It’s the first thunderstorm since Bubbe Rose died. Cyrus feels completely ridiculous. He’s almost in high school, yet one thunderstorm sends him over the edge of insanity. He should be brave, just like she always taught him.

He misses her so much.

She was always there for him, a comfort during the storm, a calming figure when his parents got divorced and then remarried. Her creaky, old house became as familiar and welcoming as his own. Everyday spent with her was a wonder. Even as he grew older, trips to Bubbe’s house would always be the highlight of his week. Cyrus struggled with many things throughout his life, and Bubbe was there to help with them all. That is, until she got sick.

Trips to Bubbe’s house were shorter after she got sick. Despite her bad condition, with a constant pale complexion and hacking between words, she continued to find away to make him smile. Many days, she would tell stories of her childhood to him. Cyrus would always sit and listen even though he’d heard most of them before.

A few months later, she seemed to be slowly getting better. More often than not, she’d be up from her bed meandering around the kitchen to cook, one of her favorite hobbies. Cyrus remembers the many days in his childhood when he’d come over after school hungry and wild, and she’d pull out her old family recipe book. It was as thick as a textbook, pages covered in dust and food stains. Then, she’d let him pick out something to make together.

“Mix that up, don’t spill any out of the bowl…yes, just like that,” She’d instruct, standing behind him. “Good job, Aynikl!”

Whenever they cooked together, Cyrus remembers the elated feeling he’d get. During their downtimes while waiting for the food to bake, she’d tell him stories about Jewish history. Then, once the food was done, she’d serve up a plate for each of them to have as long as Cyrus didn’t tell his mother that he ate right before dinner.

Cyrus loved seeing her back in the kitchen again. Even if she was a bit slower and careful, it still made him remember the many days they spent cooking together. Everything is great until it isn’t.

It comes out of nowhere. Her condition returns more aggressively than before. Cyrus has no time to process any of it before his parents explain to him that his Bubbe died. _She died in her sleep_ , they said, _it was peaceful_. None of that really matters in the end, though. In the end, she’s just gone.

Then, the Shiva happens. It’s heartbreaking all over again, but at least his family and friends are all there for him. Her death is still devastating, but being surrounded with people who care for him makes him feel less alone.

He comes out to Jonah. He figures it’s about time since they’ve known each other for so long. Also, he doesn’t want to miss out on not telling someone he cares about something so important about him again. Despite the anxious thoughts running on repeat occurring before he tells him, the actual coming out goes smoothly. He tells Jonah as if it’s not a big deal, as if it’s not him exposing himself for possible judgement. Of course, Jonah being the relaxed, great friend he is, simply says “Cool.” This response makes Cyrus both overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time.

Now, time has passed, and a lot has changed since then. The main difference is how close he’s grown with TJ after the boy showed up at the Shiva. Since then, him and TJ have been conversing more than before. They’ve spent time hanging out together just like any friends would do.

The thunderstorm happens.

Cyrus isn’t prepared in the least bit for the way the storm rattles him to his core. Being home alone for the night certainly doesn’t help, but also the memories of his Bubbe come back at him full force. He’s avoided thinking about her too much recently, so having all of these memories of her warmth and comfort suddenly invading him makes her absence even more pronounced.

Soon, Cyrus finds himself hyperventilating into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as tight as possible to try and block the multitude of sensations pulsing through him. His throat closes up as he chokes out a broken sob. He curls his toes until they cramp. Hands clutch for someone who isn’t there.

He reaches for his phone, fingers slipping a few times before he finally grabs hold of it. Exhausted and scared, he dials the first person his fingers fumble on. He puts it on speaker, trying to keep it together until the person answers.

“Cy?” TJ answers, voice raspy.

“’M sorry,” Cyrus gasps out, “I woke you, I’m sorry.”

Noticing something’s wrong, TJ speaks again, this time sounding more alert. “Hey, it’s okay. I get plenty of sleep as it is. Are you alright?”

At his question, a clap of thunder sounds louder than any of the previous ones. He tries to hold back his whimper, but fails. TJ probably thinks he’s a huge baby now. The thought of TJ hearing his cries only furthers his panic.

“Woah, hey,” TJ says quietly, “I’ll be over as soon as I can, okay?”

Cyrus shakes his head before realizing TJ can’t see him. “’M fine.”

“You don’t sound fine, Underdog. It’s no big deal. You’re my friend, and I care about you. I’ll be over soon.”

Cyrus doesn’t have the energy to argue with him. He stays huddled in his bed, attempting to think of anything to distract him. Every time he comes up with something, though, his brain finds a way to link it back to his Bubbe.

A persistent rapping sounds at the door. Cyrus doesn’t want to move, but his need to feel less alone overtakes his fear for a second. He hurries down the steps, carrying his blanket behind him like a cape. Quickly, he opens the door, pulling a wet TJ inside.

Cyrus realizes what a mess he must look like right now. He can feel new and fresh tears combining on his face which is probably red and splotchy. His hair is completely messed up from him digging his face into his pillow. His feelings of sorrow embody his entire self, right now. He hates that anyone has to see him like this, let alone TJ.

Thunder sounds again, and Cyrus practically collapses into TJ. Obviously stunned, TJ takes a second to reciprocate, but eventually he wraps his arms around the shorter boy in return. The strength of his quivering makes both of them shake.

“Do you want to go upstairs?” TJ whispers, not yet letting go.

Cyrus nods into his chest, trying to hide his fresh tears for a moment before pulling away. TJ leads the way, having been in Cyrus’s room multiple times. When they get upstairs, Cyrus sits back on his bed, legs tucked in toward his chest. TJ gingerly sits beside him. When Cyrus leans into his side, TJ wraps an arm around his shoulders.

They sit like that for a while just breathing. Cyrus fits his head in the crook of TJ’s neck, nose brushing up the other boy’s collarbone. TJ rests his own head on top of Cyrus’s. It’s not that comfy by any means, but the warmth radiating from TJ makes want to get as close as possible.

Finally, the storm starts to dissipate. Lightning stops flashing through his curtains, and the roar of the thunder comes to a halt. Soon, all that’s left is the sound of fading rain. TJ still doesn’t move which Cyrus is thankful for.

“I used to be scared of thunder,” Cyrus murmurs, voice raw from crying.

TJ squeezes his shoulder, urging him to keep going. He does.

“One of the worst thunderstorms I ever experienced was at my Bubbe’s house. I was just a scared child, and spent the night laying next to me and comforting me as the storm raged on. I’d be over at her house a lot while the divorce was going on, so there were many nights that I sought shelter in her room.

This is the first thunderstorm here since…since she died. And I guess it kinda just all hit me at once? That she’ll never be here to comfort me like that again. She’ll never be here to tell me her stories, or spoil me, or cook with me, or give me advice—and I just miss her so much, TJ. I can’t—”

He starts crying again, and TJ brings him into a full-on hug this time. Cyrus clutches at him like a lifeline, tears and snot dripping onto TJ’s shirt.

“You could tell me about her, if that would help?” TJ suggests as he rubs Cyrus’s back with one hand. “I’d love to know more about her.”

“Really?” Cyrus sniffles, pulling out of TJ’s embrace.

“Of course. If she’s this important to you, she must be a pretty amazing woman.”

Cyrus chuckles, wiping away more tears. “She really was. I-I actually remember this one time she took my grocery shopping…”

Cyrus doesn’t know how much time passes, but he spends the next while telling TJ stories of his Bubbe Rose as well as some of the stories she told him when he was just a boy. The entire time, TJ is transfixed on him, listening avidly and chiming in on occasion. It seems like talking about her would hurt even more, making him feel worse, but sharing the tales of his Bubbe with TJ pushes a weight off his chest. This is the best way to honor her memory, Cyrus decides; sharing his best, loving memories.

Somehow, they find themselves laying back on Cyrus’s bed both turned on their sides and facing each other. Cyrus’s throat becomes sore and his voice hoarse from speaking so much, but he continues until he feels like he has nothing left to give for tonight.

Eventually, yawns overtake, slurring his speech patterns as he finishes up another story. TJ notices his tiredness and pulls a blanket from his bed over the two of them.

“You’re Bubbe sounds really special,” TJ mentions, speaking for the first time in a while. “I wish I could’ve met her.”

“I think Bubbe Rose would have liked you a lot, too” Cyrus whispers, staring up at TJ. “She could always tell when someone’s heart was true.”

TJ smiles, resting his head down on Cyrus’s other pillow. “Get some rest, Cy, you deserve it.”

He nestles deeper under the blanket TJ threw over the top of them, nose just barely poking out from underneath.

“Stay with me?” Cyrus wonders, on the verge of sleep.

“Always.”

_“I’ll watch over you, just go to sleep. Be brave. You’ll be alright when morning comes.”_

As Cyrus drifts off to sleep, he feels less alone than he has in a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to come back and dedicate this to my grandpa because I just got the news that he passed away. he's gone, but never forgotten <3


End file.
